


Realization

by winterisakiller (sparkinside)



Series: Last Minutes &  Lost Evenings [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 01:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkinside/pseuds/winterisakiller
Summary: Love was never supposed to be part of the equation.





	Realization

**Author's Note:**

> So here is part two of this one shot series. These pieces, as of now, are going to be little glimpses into the past, present, and possibly future of this relationship and will flit between both of their perspectives. 
> 
> I had a vague idea of just how this was going to play out but Tom and Rosemary had other ideas. And so here we are.

For the first time in far too long, Tom felt as though he could breathe. 

The past few months had been nonstop motion. He seemed to fly from promotion to promotion. An interview here, a photoshoot there, pre-production meetings, it never seemed to end. He had smiled and flirted and been the Tom Hiddleston everyone expected of him. It was draining. He had felt himself slowly dwindling down, his temper flaring far more often and far hotter than situation allowed. He was tired. Not just physically, though god knows he could feel the weariness straight to the bone, but emotionally as well. Exhausted and weary and frighteningly near the end of his tether.

But here, now, he felt at peace. It amazed him still, the comfort her small apartment brought him. Or well, if he were being completely honest, that she brought him. Everything was simpler, easier. He could just _be_ and dear god it was wonderful. It was his own personal heaven and he would guard it fiercely. 

The apartment was quiet. He could hear the soft patter of Rosemary in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets; the soft chink of a spoon against the sides of a mug. _Tea_ , he realized, _lovely_. It brought a smile to his face, these simple things she did for him. The quiet, warm affection she bore him. 

His smile widened as she appeared in the doorway, a steaming mug in each hand. He took his, offering her a small nod in thanks. A warm smile spread across her features, answering his own. “Sleep well?” 

“Yes,” he nodded, pushing his admitted shaggy hair back from his forehead, “Very much so,” His voice was still scratchy with sleep. He waved his hand, beckoning her to join him. Her smile grew as she climbed onto the bed, settling comfortably against him.

She felt wonderful pressed against his side, her head resting against his bare shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, rubbing his free hand quickly up and down her arm. He’d always found any excuse to touch her, to hold her. She always seemed to fit so perfectly against him. They had passed countless hours in just such a manner; huddled together in her bed, on her couch, in her minuscule kitchen. They had talked about everything and nothing. It was comfortable. Just to be simply Tom and Rosie. No commitments, no demands. 

He cherished these stolen moments. He had done so for the nearly year and a half that they’d been doing _this_. She was a safe harbor. 

His eyes landed on the digital clock sitting on her bed stand. It was fast approaching late morning and he knew she would have to leave him, if only for a few hours. Usually their time together was just theirs, neither letting their real lives encroach for as long as possible. But his arrival had been unannounced. He’d found himself free and in desperate need of her so he’d come, knowing full well she very likely had commitments that she could not shirk. He was being utterly selfish. 

“When do you have to be off?” He tried to keep his tone as neutral as he could. 

“I don’t,” She smirked, snuggling tighter against him. “Perks of being your own boss. Jules is running things today. So it looks like you’re stuck with me for the time being, mister.”

He grinned, delight etched across his features. “Wonderful.”

 _I love her_. The thought flitted across his mind so swiftly he wasn’t quite sure he understood it at the time. Rosie was wonderful; simple and elegant, warm and open. She had become something so vital in his life, it was impossible for him _not_ to care for her. But love? It was ridiculous. He couldn’t love her. _But I do. God help me I do_.

What he didn’t know was just what he could, or honestly should, do about it. He was well and truly fucked. 

“You alright there?” Her voice snapped Tom back to himself. 

It took him several moments to gain hold of his voice. “Yes. Sorry, my mind went on walkabout for a moment there.” He took what he hoped wasn’t a shaky breath, pushing his startling revelation aside. He would think on it later, because venturing down that rabbit hole could only lead to disaster. Better simply to let it be. 

He placed another kiss to the top of her head. _Just let it be, Hiddleston. Just let it be_.

~*~*~

He really was absolutely stunning. Rosemary could easily spend all day just watching him do the most mundane of tasks, truth be told she often did in the sixth months that they had been doing _this_. He had an unassuming grace about him that effortlessly drew you in. He was currently working through an impressive pile of laundry. He’d come straight to hers from the airport, something that happened more often than not lately, his large and rather beaten lone suitcase in tow. How he managed to cram so much into one case she couldn’t fathom; even if it consisted of several of the same jumpers and dark jeans with a handful of t-shirts and dress clothes for variety.

She smiled at the way his forehead wrinkled, his mouth upturned, as he focused on sorting through each article and loading them painstakingly in her tiny washing machine. Why he didn’t use his own, she’d never understand. She knew better than to offer help, she’d tried the first time he’d descended on her and he’d outright refused. “I’m already invading your life, the last thing I want, darling, is to ask you to do my washing.” She had protested this, but Tom had stood firm. Whatever they were, and she never dared ask him to provide a label, she was neither his laundress nor his mother. _Stubborn bastard_.

“When you sit there staring at me like that, I can’t help feel a bit like a performing monkey.” He announced, his voice warm with humor, his attention never wavering from the pile of clothing before him. 

“I thought you liked putting on a show?” she teased.

His eyes flicked to her then, a knowing smirk crossing his features. “If this is your idea of a show, Rosie my dear, you most certainly need to get out more.” She felt the familiar flutter in her stomach when he called her Rosie. He was one of the few who did. She lived her life as Rosemary, occasionally Rose to an older acquaintance. She was Rosie only to her family, and now to him. It was silly, really, that something so simple could mean so much. It made her feel special. Cherished. She mattered enough for him to give her a pet name. God, she was ridiculous. 

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s the most entertaining show I’ve ever seen. It could use a bit more skin for my taste…” She quirked an eyebrow, returning his smirk.

Tom sighed, turning his attention fully to her. “You only want me for my body.” His eyes were wide, plaintive and forlorn. “And here I thought you actually cared.”

She groaned internally. _Fuck this man and his fucking expressive face! God, he must have been an absolute terror as a child_. “You really don’t understand the concept of playing fair, do you Hiddleston?”

“Why ever would I do that?” His face transformed once again into a bright smile. “It’s far too much fun this way.”

“You’re a jerk,” she retorted, unable to mask her own smile. 

He laughed heartily, his attention turning back to the clothing piled before him. “And yet you love me anyway.”

Rosemary nearly started at the statement. It had been a throwaway line, she was quite sure he hadn’t even realized what he’d said, but she knew in that moment that it was true. She loved him. She had to fight to keep herself from laughing aloud at the thought. Jesus, she loved him. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. 

Of course she loved him, how could she not? He was a good man. Stubborn to a fault, yes, and guarded at the best of times, but a good man. He was kind and patient and he _cared_. She knew that, it was clear in every action, every touch, but she was no fool. Caring for someone and loving them were two vastly different things. And while she was assured in her own feelings, how she could ever _not_ have realized how deeply she cared seemed utterly absurd, his were less certain. He cared for her, he was fond of her, that she knew without a doubt. He seemed content in their arrangement, though, in their careful construct of sex and companionship, in the ability to hide himself away in their tiny, little world. There were no commitments, no complications, no demands. And given the life she knew he led, the fluidity of their arrangement had to hold a strong appeal. 

This revelation would throw a wrench in that, she was well aware. Feelings weren’t ever a concrete part of this. She was an escape, pure and simple, she knew that. Accepted it. Putting a voice to to her newly realized emotional state could well drive him off. Not that she believed Tom would be so callous. No. But he could, probably would pull away. And somehow that seemed worse. And even if he didn’t push her away, if he loved her in return, what would that honestly mean for them? 

She shook herself from her thoughts. There was no sense in fretting now. Not while he was here. There would be plenty time after to figure things out. To make sense of it all. He was here now and that was what she needed to focus on. Tom, it seemed, hadn’t even noticed her inattention and for that she was grateful. She swallowed and forced herself back into the present. He was with her now and she would make the best of that. There would be time later to dwell on just what she was going to do.


End file.
